Continued...

As we settled into the warmth of the Suburban and cruised south on Highway 1, the landscape started changing. It became sandier and less rugged. The terrain was leveling out. Large painted wooden signs mark where fresh berries are available in the summer. The land was cultivated, but nothing was growing yet.

I saw long, dilapidated buildings tightly woven together. Housing, I realized, the infamous housing of the migrant workers. Occasionally, I would see a humble single family home along the way. However, the group housing captivated me. The harsh reality of living there and working in the fields from dawn to dusk made my body ache just thinking about it. The disparity of living conditions just miles from one of the wealthiest places in the country was shocking. Perhaps last week President Obama should have gathered around these tables instead of the table with the billionaire icons of Silicon Valley.

As a farmer's daughter, I am drawn to these observations because it is in my blood. My father would be evaluating the quality of the soil and the challenges of the growing season. I can hear his voice over the rumble of the highway. I can see that life is hard here for farmers. It rains only in the winter (averaging 30") and does not rain (not even a drop) all summer. These desert conditions make it challenging to farm. Irrigation is a solution; however, obviously, there is not a lot of water available for irrigation despite the presence of an endless ocean (thus the frequent presence of contaminated, limited water at the group housing sites.) Dry farming is promoted, but it reduces productivity and requires significant distance between rows.

As Santa Cruz came into sight, I let these thoughts drift away and begin focusing on our destination. We cruised down the streets randomly because we had to stop to actually program the GPS (safety feature), so instead we opted to explore. We found the ocean, but no boardwalk, so reluctantly we paused to program the GPS only to discover we just needed to go over the hill.

The boardwalk did not open for an hour, so we headed downtown to find breakfast. We stopped at the Bagelry. A local bagel shop where they actually made all the bagels. Fun.

Afterwards, we meandered back to the Boardwalk and found parking for the day for a price, of course. The seaside amusement park has existed here for 102 years. Reluctantly, Kade paused for me on the rail of the boardwalk.



The ocean theme pervaded the park.



Fascinating food abounded.



Lucky for us ride passes were 2 for 1 on President's Day, so off we bounded for the unlimited ride adventures as the stands began lifting their covers for the day. A little bug was frequently accompanied by a chaperon of her choice!



My first ride of the day was on the swing with all my kids. As we spun over the beach, the ocean view was magnificent!



Rock climbing is always a family favorite, and Kiahra rocked it!



When tummies began rumbling, we headed out of the park to the wharf where we found lunch with a view and yummy crab. With full tummies, the big kids dashed off to return to the park, as Ron, Chayse, and I meandered down the wharf, watched a few sea lions, and found a candy shop. Though the catch of the day was a new soft pair of jammies for me. The crabby morning theme is perfect for me, and I love the irony that this wonderful day started so early!




As the sun drifted over the ocean, the Suburban quickly fell quiet as we rumbled down the freeway towards home...smiling at the memories and echoes of laughter amidst the theme park music...